-WARN- It's a long one, but it's something I have to tell. There's a TL;DR; -WARN-

Names have been altered for secrecy.

Confession: A Detailed Account of Two Forced Sexual Encounters with my Step Cousin

When my parents were divorced in 1986, my mother began dating and eventually remarried a lawyer. The lawyer had a sister, and that sister had children. One of them was Ashley. Ashley, or just "Ash" as we began call her, is three years my older, but we fit together like two peas in a pod. She liked all the same games as I, and we often agreed on all issues, trivial or otherwise. Ashley and I stopped seeing each other as often when my parents divorced again, and at this point we were in separate schools. I was in sixth grade at the eastern high school, and she was in seventh grade at the western. Because of our school situation, we didn't see each other often, but occasionally the bus routes would intersect and we would meet up. It was on one of those days that I experienced one of the most life changing experiences of my entire existence. I was dropped off at my mother's office which has already closed ( I used to wait here to be picked up ) when I saw Ash walking down the sidewalk. I invited her in, because that's what friends do. She asked me how my day was, how school had been, typical, boring stuff. She had changed. The old, hyper "Ash" that I knew had been replaced with a calm, level-headed (or so I thought), and in my eyes boring "Ashley." But something was different about her. Her demeanor was off-balance. She looked uneasy, almost sick, and nervous. She told me she wasn't feeling well. She asked me to come into the back with her to look for something to do. Once back there, the real fun began. She closed the door behind her, turned out the lights, and took off her shirt. The light from the shaded window was dim. I turned around to tell her to stop joking around, and she practically tackled me to the floor and pressed her 14-year-old chest against me. I tried to resist, but she was an athlete and demonstrated that. She took off her bra and began to rub her medium-sized breasts against my face. She took off all my clothes, wiping each article against the crotch of her pants. She molested me. My friend who I had trusted over many years. She yanked and jerked and licked my 11-year-old penis to no avail. I was not enjoying it. But this was not the worst. She continued to scratch and hold me. She only ceased to remove her pants. Fully naked, she smothered me with her exposed pussy and ground my face until she climaxed. I could barely breathe. I was traumatized. It amazed me that this girl would be capable of such a thing, and while maintaining complete silence. She hit me and the last thing she said was, �If you tell anyone, I'll do it again and again, and no one will believe you.� It was inhuman. I never told anyone, and I never saw Ashley again, until four years later at a new years party. I was 16, she was 19 in college. She acted nonchalant. She acted like nothing had happened. I was furious, I wanted to kill her. Because of her, I had taken up a life of drugs and detention in school. I was on regular drug tests, which I routinely failed, but no one cared here. I spent nearly every Friday afternoon in Detention. I hated her, and I wanted revenge. All of the proper adults were as drunk as dogs. Ashley was blazed, and I could feel the ache of my own vices. Ashley got up and went outside for a smoke. I decided that this was my opportune moment. I ran outside and hit her over the head and dragged her into an unoccupied room. I quickly gagged her with a washcloth and duct tape and tied her hands to the legs of a dresser with a couple of pillowcases after removing her shirt. When I heard her start to groan, I got down at the level of her face and smacked her. She came to. I told her everything. I told her how she fucked up my life, about how she ruined me that night at my mom's office. And I told her that now it was her turn. But it was more than her turn. She had that night plus years of hell to pay for. I was going to make this an absolute misery. I pulled out a small bag of cocaine I had. I laid the coke out in the small of her back while I held her still. Then I pulled out my razor-blade and lined it up, cutting her severely in the process. I then proceeded to snort two lines of cocaine off of my step cousin's back. Everyone in the house was either in a deep alcoholic sleep or gone for the night, but I didn't care. Tonight was about revenge. I pulled down her skirt so she was in her lace bra and thong and slapped her bare ass as hard as I could. She tried to scream, but I only laughed. I pulled off my pants and shirt, down to my boxers and leaned in close to her face, contouring her body. I whispered in her ear those words that had haunted my life for four miserable years, �If you tell anyone, I'll do it again and again, and no one will believe you.� In one swift motion I oiled my fingers, pulled her thong aside, and rammed two fingers into her asshole. She tried violently to resist. But now, I was much stronger than she. I continued fingering her asshole for about a minute before I pulled her thong completely off along with my boxers. I had a monster-thumper of a boner. I oiled up and thrust it into her pussy in the blink of an eye. I was brutal, I was unforgiving. I had reduced her to tears. Good. That's how I wanted her to feel. I wanted her to feel violated. I wanted her to think, he's raping me and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I pulled out and pumped in and out of her asshole, then I ejaculated inside of her anus. I grabbed my razor-blade and held it to her face, then I removed the duct tape gag and told her to tell me what she thought. After what seemed like hours of exasperated breathing, she said �How could you do that, for what I did to you?� To which I replied �You'll know in four years.� I walked away and drove away from the town, went to another state to stay in a hotel on some cash that I had saved up. When everything quieted down, I called a friend to ask how things were to see if she had told anyone (he didnt' know, but I asked what was up, small talk, etc.). To my surprise, she had blamed the beatings and bruising on her ex boyfriend, who was convicted and arrested of rape. I returned home and was in trouble with the law for running away, but it was a far cry from rape allegations. Sure enough, about six years later I run into Ashley again. She was on hard drugs like cocaine that I had kicked since then. In fact, she was almost exactly like I did five years before. My life, however, was going good. I was in college with a decent job, but she was a wreck. When she saw me, she was shocked, but she didn't respond with anger as I had, but she asked me if she could talk to me alone. I agreed, I didn't feel threatened at all (though I probably should have), and we went to her apartment. She was crying the whole way there. I began to tear up. When we entered her apartment, which was torn to pieces, she began crying uncontrollably, she got on her knees and said she was sorry. She begged for my forgiveness. She told me what I had told her, six years ago, that that night had ruined her life because she had realized the psychological pain that rape can cause. All she wanted was my forgiveness, and she had struck a nerve, because all I had really wanted, was for her to ask for it. I gave her a hug and told her how sorry I was. Truth be told, I hadn't regretted a single minute until that moment, but I then realized the error of what I had done. We cried, we talked, and we forgave each other, but we could never remain close. We went our separate ways. I haven't seen her again so far, but it was nice to finally have some closure to that episode.

TL;DR: My step cousin raped me, and I brutally hate-raped her again four years later.